Twist of Fate
by Poetgirl616
Summary: Bella comes to Forks and a lot of questions follow. Bella meets Edward and although they feel an attraction there is a complication that may keep them apart. Story is better than the summary I promise! Bella/Edward & Bella/OC On hold
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt—sleeveless, white eyelet lace; I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a parka.

In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America. It was from this town and it's gloomy, omnipresent shade that my omnipresent shade that my mother escaped with me when I was only a few months old. It was in this town that I'd been compelled to spend a month each summer until I was fourteen. That was the year I finally put my foot down; these past summers, my dad, Charlie vacationed with me in California for two weeks instead.

It was to Forks that I now exiled myself—an action that I took with great horror. I detested Forks.

I loved Phoenix. I loved the sun and the blistering heat. I loved the vigorous sprawling city.

"Bella," my mom said to me the last of a thousand times—before I got on the plane. "You don't have to do this. Forks is not the ideal place for someone with your condition." I was in the early weeks of my pregnancy.

My mom looks like me, except with short hair and laugh lines. I felt a spasm of panic as I stared into her wide, childlike eyes. How could I leave my loving, erratic, hare-brained mother to fend for herself? Of course she'd have Phil now, so the bills will probably get paid, there would be food in the fridge, gas in her car, and someone to call when she got lost, but still . . . .

"I want to go," I lied. I'd always been a bad liar, but I'd been saying this lie so frequently lately that it sounded almost convincing now.

"Tell Charlie I said hi."

"I will."

"I'll see you soon," she insisted. "You can come home whenever you want—I'll come back as soon as you need me."

But I could see the sacrifice in her eye behind the promise.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," I urged. "It'll be great. I love you, Mom."

She hugged me tightly for a minute, and then I got on the plane, and she was gone.

It is a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive back down to Forks. Flying doesn't bother me; the hour in the car with Charlie, though, I was worried about.

Charlie had really been fairly nice about the whole thing, considering. He wasn't happy that I was pregnant but he seemed genuinely pleased that I was coming to live with him for the first time with any degree of permanence. He'd already gotten me registered for high school and was going to help me get a car.

But it was sure to be awkward with Charlie. Neither of us was what anyone would call verbose, and I didn't know what there was to say regardless. I knew he was more than a little confused by my decision—like my mother before me, I hadn't made a secret of my distaste for Forks.

When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I didn't see it as an omen—just unavoidable. I'd already said my goodbyes to the sun.

Charlie was waiting for me with the cruiser. This was expected, too. Charlie was Police Chief Swan to the good people of Forks. My primary motivation behind buying a car, despite the scarcity of my funds, was that I refused to be driven around town in a car with red and blue lights on top. And I didn't feel comfortable with the thought of my father going with me to my OBG/YN appointments. Besides, nothing slows down traffic like a cop.

Charlie gave me an awkward, one-armed hug when I stumbled my way off the plane.

"It's good to see you, Bells," he said, smiling as he automatically caught and steadied me. "You haven't changed much. How's Renée?"

"Mom is fine. It's good to see you, too, Dad." I wasn't allowed to call him Charlie to his face.

I had only a few bags. Most of my Arizona clothes were too permeable for Washington. My mom and I had pooled our resources to supplement my winter wardrobe, but it was still scanty. It all fit easily into the trunk of the cruiser.

"I found a good car for you, really cheap," he announced when we were strapped in.

"What kind of car?" I was suspicious of the way he said "good car for you" as opposed to just "good car."

"Well, it's a truck actually, a Chevy."

"Where did you find it?"

"Do you remember Billy Black down in La Push?" La Push is the Indian reservation down on the coast.

"Not really, no."

"He used to go fishing with us during the summer," Charlie prompted.

That would explain why I didn't remember him. I do a good job of blocking painful, unnecessary things from my memory.

"He's in a wheelchair now so he can't drive anymore and he offered to sell me his truck cheap." Charlie stated when I didn't respond.

"What year is it?" I could see from his change of expression that this was the question he was hoping I wouldn't ask.

"Well, Billy's done a lot of work on the engine—it's only a few years old, really."

I hope he didn't think so little of me as to believe I would give up that easily. "When did he buy it?"

"He bought it in 1984 I think."

"Did he buy it new?"

"No, I think it was new in the early sixties—or late fifties at the earliest," he admitted sheepishly.

"Ch—Dad, I don't know anything about cars. I wouldn't be able to fix it if anything went wrong, and I couldn't afford a mechanic. . . ."

"Really, Bella, the thing runs great. They don't make them like that anymore."

The thing, I thought to myself . . . it had possibilities—as a nickname at the very least.

"How cheap is cheap?" After all, that was the part I couldn't compromise on.

"Well, honey, I kind of already bought it for you. As a homecoming present." Charlie peeked sideways at me with a hopeful expression.

Wow. Free.

"You didn't have to do that, Dad. I was going to buy myself a car."

"I don't mind. I want you to be happy here." He was looking ahead at the road when he said this. Charlie wasn't comfortable with expressing his emotions out loud. I inherited that from him. So I was looking straight ahead as I responded.

"That's really nice, Dad. Thanks. I really appreciate it." No need to add that my being happy in Forks is an impossibility. He didn't need to suffer along with me. And I never looked a free truck in the mouth—or engine.

"Well, now, you're welcome," he mumbled, embarrassed by my thanks.

There was a brief pause. He cleared his throat.

"So . . . how far along are you? Renée didn't tell me that much about this. Just that you were pregnant and intent on having the baby in Forks." He blushed as he stared out the windshield.

"I'm four weeks. Not much to tell, Dad. Phil doesn't know yet. Mom's planning on telling him when they get to Florida. He's been worried about me since I've been going to the hospital so much to see my OBG/YN and he wasn't in on the secret." I blushed, too.

"That's nice. He sounds like a good guy."

"He is."

We exchanged a few more comments on the weather which was wet, and that was pretty much it for conversation. We stared out the open window in silence.

It was beautiful, of course, I couldn't deny that. Everything was green: the trees, their trunks covered with moss, their branches hanging with a canopy of it, the ground covered with ferns. Even the air filtered down greenly through the leaves.

It was too green—an alien planet.

Eventually we made it to Charlie's. He still lived in the small, two-bedroom house that he'd bought with my mother in the early years of their marriage; those were the only years their marriage had. There, parked on the street in front of the house than hadn't changed, was my new—well, new to _me_—truck. It was a faded red color, with big, rounded fenders, and a bulbous cab. To my intense surprise, I loved it. I wasn't sure if it would run, but I could see myself in it. Plus, it was one of those solid iron affairs that never damages—the kind you see at the scene of an accident unscathed, surrounded by the pieces of the foreign car it destroyed.

"Wow, Dad, I love it! Thanks!" Now my horrific day tomorrow would be that much less dreadful. I wouldn't be faced with the choices of either walking two miles in the rain to school or accepting a ride in the Chiefs' cruiser. If anything happened, my baby would be safe.

"I'm glad you like it," Charlie said gruffly, embarrassed again.

It only took one trip to get all my stuff upstairs. I reclaimed the west bedroom that faced out over the front yard. The room was familiar; it had belonged to me since I was born. The wooden floor, the floor, the light blue walls, the peaked ceiling, the yellowed lace curtains around the windows were all a part of my childhood. I would rearrange and redecorate when I got a job to increase my funds. I may even be able to talk him into keeping my old crib in his room until I was eight months. The only changes Charlie had ever made were taking the crib out of my room to replace it with a bed and adding a desk as I grew. The desk now held a secondhand computer with a phone line for the modem stapled along the floor to the nearest phone jack. This was a stipulation from my mother, so that we could stay in touch easily. She also helped me buy a cell phone so I could call her but it was in my name so I paid the bills for it. The rocking chair from my baby days was still in the corner. Maybe I could put it to good use when I brought the baby home.

There was only one small bathroom at the top of the stairs, which I would have to share with Charlie. I was trying not to dwell too much on that fact.

One of the best things about Charlie is he doesn't hover. He left me alone to unpack and get settled, a feat that would have been completely impossible for my mother. It was nice to be alone, not to have to smile and looked pleased about exiling myself; a relief to stare dejectedly out the window at the sheeting rain and let just a few tears escape. I wasn't in the mood to go on a real crying jag. I would save that for bedtime, when I would have to think about the coming morning.

Forks High School had a frightening total of only three hundred and fifty-seven—now fifty-eight—students; there were more than seven hundred people in my junior class alone back home. All of the kids here had grown up together—their grandparents had been toddlers together. I would be the pregnant new girl from the big city, a curiosity, a freak.

Maybe, if I looked like a girl from Phoenix should, I could work this to my advantage. No one had to know until it was necessary for them to know. But physically, I'd never fit in anywhere. I should be tan, sporty, blond—a volleyball player, or a cheerleader perhaps—all the things that come with living in the valley of the sun.

Instead, I was ivory-skinned, without the excuse of blue eyes or red hair, despite the constant sunshine. I had always been slender, but soft somehow, obviously not an athlete; I didn't have the necessary hand-eye coordination to play sports without humiliation myself—and harming both myself and anyone who stood too close.

When I finished putting my clothes in the old pine dresser, I took my bag of bathroom necessities to clean myself up after the day of travel. I looked at my face in the mirror as I brushed through my tangled, damp hair. Maybe it was the light, but I already looked sallower. My skin could be pretty—it was very clear, almost translucent-looking—but it all depended on color. I had no color here.

Facing my pale reflection in the mirror, I was forced to admit that I was lying to myself. It wasn't just physically that I'd never fit in. If I couldn't find a niche in a school with three thousand people, what were my chances here? Especially now that I was pregnant.

I didn't relate well to people my age. Maybe the truth is that I don't relate well to people period. Even my mother, who I was closer to than anyone else on the planet, was never in harmony with me, never on exactly the same page. Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain.

But the cause didn't matter. All that mattered was the effect. And tomorrow would be just the beginning. . . . .


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I didn't sleep well that night, even after I was done crying. The constant _whoosh_ing of the rain and wind across the roof wouldn't fade into the background. I pulled the faded old quilt over my head, and later added the pillow, too. But I couldn't fall asleep until after midnight, when the rain finally settled into a much quieter drizzle.

Thick fog was all I could see out my window in the morning and I could feel the claustrophobia creeping up on me. You could never see the sky here; it was like a cage. And I already felt a bit trapped.

Breakfast with Charlie was a quiet event. After I took my vitamins that looked more like horse pills, I washed up. He wished me good luck at school. I thanked him, knowing his hope was wasted. Good luck tended to avoid me. Charlie left first, off to the police station that was his wife and family. After he left, I sat at the old square oak table in one of three mismatching chairs and examined his small kitchen, with its dark paneled walls, bright yellow cabinets, and white linoleum floor. Nothing was changed. My mother had painted the cabinets eighteen years ago in an attempt to bring some sunshine into the house. Over the small fireplace in the adjoining handkerchief-sized family room was a row of pictures. First was a wedding picture of Charlie and my mom in Las Vegas, then one of the three of us in the hospital after I was born, taken by a helpful nurse, followed by a procession of my school pictures up to last years'. Those were embarrassing to look at—I would have to see what I could do to get Charlie to put them somewhere else, at least while I'm living here.

It was impossible, being in this house, not to realize that Charlie had never gotten over my mom. It made me uncomfortable.

I didn't want to be too early to school, but I couldn't stay in the house anymore. I donned my jacket—which had the feel of a biohazard suit—and headed out into the rain.

It was just drizzling still, not enough to soak me through immediately as I reached for the house key under the eave by the door, and locked up. The sloshing of my new waterproof boots was unnerving. I was missing the normal crunch of gravel as I walked. I couldn't pause and admire my truck again like I wanted; I was in a hurry to get out of the misty wet that swirled around my head and clung to my hair underneath my hood.

Inside the truck, it was nice and dry. Either Billy or Charlie had obviously cleaned it up, but the tan holstered seats still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and peppermint. The engine started quickly to my relief, but loudly roaring to life and then idling at top volume. Well, a truck this old was bound to have a flaw. The antique radio worked, a plus that I hadn't expected.

Finding the school wasn't difficult, though I'd never been there before. The school was, like most other things, just off the highway. It was not obvious that it was a school; only the sigh, which declared it to be Forks High School, made me stop. It looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon covered bricks. There were so many trees and shrubs I couldn't see its size at first. Where was the feeling of institution? I wondered nostalgically. Where were the chain-link fences, the metal detectors?

I parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading FRONT OFFICE. No one else had parked there, so I was sure it was off-limits, but I decided I would get directions inside instead of circling around in the rain like an idiot. That would surely clue everyone within a five foot radius that I was new. I stepped unwillingly out of the toasty truck cab and walked down a little stone path lined with dark hedges. I took a deep calming breath before opening the door.

Inside, it was brightly lit, and warmer than I had hoped. The office was small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly. Plants grew everywhere in large plastic pots, as if there wasn't enough greenery outside. The room was cut in half by a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets full of papers and brightly colored flyers taped to its front. There were three desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses. She wore a simple purple t-shirt, which immediately made me feel overdressed.

The red-haired woman looked up. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Isabella Swan," I informed her, and saw the immediate awareness in her eyes. I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. Daughter of the Chiefs' flighty ex-wife come "home" at last.

"Of course," she said. She dug through a precariously stacked pile of documents on her desk until she found the ones she was looking for. "I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school." She brought several sheets to the counter to show me.

She went through my classes for me, highlighting the best route to each on the map, and gave me a slip to have each teacher sign, meaning I was to bring back at the end of the day. She smiled at me and hoped, like Charlie, that I would like it in Forks. I smiled back as convincingly as I could, while thinking, _yeah right_!

When I went back out to my truck, other students were starting to arrive. I drove around the school, following the line of traffic. I was glad to see that most of the cars were older like mine, nothing flashy. At home I'd lived in one of the few lower-income neighborhoods that were included in the Paradise Valley District. It was a common thing to see a new Mercedes or Porsche in the student lot. The nicest car here was a shiny Volvo, and it stood out. Still, I cut the engine as soon as I was in a spot, so that the thunderous volume wouldn't draw attention to me.

I looked at the map in the truck, trying to memorize it now; hopefully I wouldn't have to walk around with it stuck in front of my nose all day. I stuffed everything in my bag, slung the strap over my shoulder, and sucked in a huge breath. _I can do this_, I lied to myself feebly. _No one was going to bite me_. I finally exhaled and stepped out of the truck.

I kept my face hidden in my hood as I followed the line of bodies to the sidewalk, crowded with teenagers. My plain back jacket didn't stand out, I noticed with great relief.

Once I had maneuvered around the cafeteria building three was impossible not to see. A large black "3" was painted on a white square on the east corner. I felt my breathing gradually creeping toward hyperventilation as I approached the door. I tried out holding my breath as I followed two unisex raincoats through the door.

The classroom was small. The people in front of me stopped just inside the door to hang up their coats on a long row of hooks. I thought it would be suspicious not to follow their lead so I copied them. They were two girls, one a porcelain-colored blonde the other also pale, but with light brown hair. At least my skin wouldn't be a stand out here.

I took the slip up to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He gawked at me when he saw my name—not an encouraging response—and of course I felt like a science experiment so I flushed tomato red. But at lease he sent me to the back without introducing me to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me in the back, but somehow they managed. I kept my eyes down on the reading list in front of me. It was fairly basic: Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, and Faulkner. I'd already read everything on the list at least twice. That was comforting . . . and boring. I let my mind wander as I went over the list. I wondered if my mom would send me my folder of old essays or if she would refuse because she thought that was cheating. I went through several different arguments with her in my head while the teacher droned on.

When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound, a gangly boy with skin problems and hair black as an oil slick leaned across the aisle to talk to me.

"You're Isabella Swan aren't you?" He looked like the overly helpful type.

"Bella," I corrected. I could swear everyone within a three seat radius turned to look at me.

"Where's your next class?" He asked casually.

I had to check my schedule. "Government with Jefferson in building six."

There was nowhere to look without meeting a pair of curious eyes.

"I'm headed toward building four, I could show you the way. . . ." Definitely the over-helpful type. "I'm Eric," he added as though he had momentarily forgotten his name.

I smiled politely. "Thank you."

We donned our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up a bit. I could have sworn several people behind us were walking close enough to eavesdrop. I hoped I wasn't getting paranoid.

"So this is a lot different from Phoenix, huh?" He asked.

"Very different."

"It doesn't rain very much there does it?"

"Just three or four times a year."

"Wow, what must that be like?" He wondered aloud.

"Pretty sunny," I told him."

"You don't look very tan."

"My mother is part albino."

He studied my face apprehensively and I sighed. It seemed clouds and a sense of humor didn't mix. A few more months of this and I'd forget how to use sarcasm.

We walked back around the cafeteria, to the south buildings by the gym. Eric walked me right to the door, though he didn't have to since it was clearly marked.

"Well . . . good luck," he said as I touched the handle. "Maybe we'll have some other classes together." He sounded a little too hopeful for my liking.

I smiled at him vaguely and went inside.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The rest of the morning passed in about the previous fashion. Pointless questions, helpful students, and overfirendly guys. My trigonometry teacher, Mr. Varner, who I would have hated, anyway just because of the subject he taught, was the only one who made me stand up in front of the class and introduce myself. I stammered and blushed, all too eager to get to my seat.

After two classes, I started to recognize several of the faces in each class. There was always someone braver than the others who would introduce themselves and ask me questions about how I was liking Forks. I just lied a lot. At least now I never needed the map. But everyone knew I was the new kid, the daughter of the Chief.

One girl sat next to me in both Trig and Spanish, and she walked with me to the cafeteria for lunch. She was tiny, several inches shorter than my five foot four inches, but her wildly curly hair made up a lot of the difference between our heights. I couldn't remember her name, so I smiled and nodded as she prattled about teachers and classes. I didn't try to keep up.

We sat at the end of her friends, who she introduced to me. I forgot all their names as soon as she spoke them. They seemed impressed by her bravery in speaking to me. The boy from English, Eric, waved at me from across the room.

It was there, sitting in the lunchroom, trying to make conversation with seven curious strangers, that I first saw them.

They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where I sat on possible in the long room. There were five of them. They weren't talking, and they weren't eating, though they each had a tray of untouched food in front of them. They weren't gawking at me, unlike most of the other students, so it was safe to stare at them without fear of meeting an excessively interested pair of eyes. But it was none of these things that caught and held my attention.

They didn't look anything alike. Of the three boys, one was big—muscled like a serious weight lifter, with dark, curly chair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and honey blonde. The last was lanky, less bulky, with untidy, bronze-colored hair. He was more boyish than the others, who looked like they could be in college, or even teachers here rather than students.

The girls were opposites. The tall one was statuesque. She had a beautiful figure, the kind you saw on the cover of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, the kind that made every girl around her take a hit on her self-esteem just by being in the same room. Her hair was golden, gently waving to the middle of her back. The short girl was pixie-like, thin in the extreme, with small features. Her hair was a deep black, cropped short and pointing in every direction.

And yet, they were all exactly alike. Every one of them was chalky pale, the palest of all the students living here in this sunless town. Paler than me, the albino. They all had very dark eyes despite the range in hair tones. They also had dark shadows under their eyes—purplish, bruise like shadows. As if they were all suffering from a sleepless night, or almost done recovering from a broken nose. Though their noses, all their features, were straight, perfect, angular.

But all this was not why I couldn't look away.

I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. They were faces you never expected to see except perhaps on the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine. Or painted by an old master as the face of an angel. It was hard to decide who was the most beautiful—maybe the perfect blond girl, or the bronze-haired boy.

They were all looking away—away from each other, away from the students, away from anything in particular as far as I could tell. As I watched, the small girl rose with her tray—unopened soda, unbitten apple—and walked away with a quick, graceful lope that belonged on a runway. I watched, amazed by her lithe dancers step, till she dumped her tray and glided through the back door, faster than I would have thought possible. My eyes darted to the others, who sat unchanging.

"Who are _they_?" I asked the girl from my Spanish class, whose name I'd forgotten.

As she looked up to see who I meant—though already knowing, probably, from my tone—suddenly _he_ looked at her, the bronze-haired one, the youngest perhaps. He looked at my neighbor for just a fraction of a second, and then his dark eyes flickered to mine.

He looked away quickly, more quickly than I could, though in a flush of embarrassment I dropped my eyes at once. In that brief flash of a glance, his face held nothing of interest—it was as if she had called his name, and he'd looked up in an involuntary response, already having decided not to answer.

My neighbor giggled in embarrassment, looking at the table like I did.

"That's Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife." She said under her breath.

I glanced sideways at the beautiful boy, who was looking at his tray now, picking a bagel to pieces with long, pale fingers. His mouth was moving very quickly, his perfect lips barely opening. The other three still looked away, and yet I felt he was speaking quietly to them.

Strange, unpopular names, I thought. The kinds of names grandparents had. But maybe that was in a vogue here—small town names? I finally remembered that my neighbor was called Jessica, a perfectly common name. there were two girls named Jessica in my History class back home.

"They are . . . very nice-looking." I struggled with the conspicuous understatement.

"Yes!" Jessica agreed with another giggle. "They're all together though—Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. And they live together." Her voice had all the shock and condemnation of the small town, I thought critically. But, if I was to be honest, I had to admit that even in Phoenix, it would cause gossip.

"Which ones are the Cullens?" I asked. "They don't look related."

"Oh, they're not. Dr. Cullen is really young, in his twenties or early thirties. They're all adopted. The Hales are brother and sister, twins—the blondes—and they're foster children."

"They look a little old to be foster children."

"They are now, Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteenth, but they've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt or something like that."

"That's really kind of nice—for them to take care of all those kids like that when they're so young and everything."

"I guess so," Jessica admitted reluctantly, and I got the impression that she didn't like the doctor and his wife for some reason. With the glances she was throwing at their adopted children, I would presume the reason was jealousy. "I think that Mrs. Cullen can't have kids, though," she added, as if that lessened their kindness.

Jessica's eagerness to gossip about the Cullens and her remarks about Mr. and Mrs. Cullen made me uneasy. She could very easily say those things about me, or worse. Throughout this conversation, my eyes flickered to where the strange family sat. They continued to look at the walls and not eat.

"Have they always lived in Forks?" I asked. Surely I would've noticed them on one of my summers here.

"No," she said in a voice that implied it should be obvious, even to a new arrival like me. "They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska."

I felt a surge of pity, and relief. Pity because, as beautiful as they were, they were outsiders, clearly not accepted. Relief that I wasn't the only newcomer here and certainly not the most interesting by any standard.

As I examined them, the youngest one of the Cullens looked up and met my gaze, this time with evident curiosity in his expression. As I looked swiftly away, it seemed to me that his glance held some kind of unmet expectation.

"Which is the boy with the bronze hair?" I asked. I peeked at him from the corner of my eye, and he was still staring at me, but not gawking like the other students had today—he had a slightly frustrated expression. I looked down again.

"That's Edward. He's gorgeous, naturally, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. It seems none of the girls here are good looking enough for him." She sniffed, clearly miffed. I wondered when he'd turned her down.

I bit my lip to hide my smile. Then I glanced at him again. His face was turned away, but I thought his cheek appeared lifted, as if he were smiling, too.

After a few more minutes, the four of them left the table together. They all were noticeably graceful—even the big, brawny one. It was unsettling to watch. The one named Edward didn't look at me again.

I sat at the table with Jessica and her friends longer than I would have if I'd been sitting alone. I was anxious not to be late for class on my first day. One of my new acquaintances, who considerately reminded me that her name was Angela, had Biology two with me the next hour. We walked to class together in silence. She was shy, too.

When we entered the classroom, Angela went to sit at a black-topped lab table exactly like the ones I was used to. She already had a neighbor. In fact, all the tables were filled but one. Next to the center aisle, I recognized Edward Cullen by his unusual hair, sitting next to that single open seat.

As I walked down the aisle to introduce myself to the teacher and get my slip signed, I was watching him surreptitiously. Just as I passed, he suddenly went rigid in his seat. He stared at me again, meeting my eyes with the strangest expression on his face—it was hostile, furious. I looked away quickly, shocked, going red again. I hurried to the teachers' desk.

I'd noticed his eyes were black—coal black.

Mr. Banner signed my slip and handed me a book with no nonsense about introductions. I could tell we were going to get along. Of course, he had no choice but to send me to the one open seat in the middle of the room. I kept my eyes down as I went to sit by _him_, bewildered by the antagonistic stare he'd given me.

I didn't look up as I set my book on the table and took my seat, but I saw his posture change from the corner of my eye. He was leaning away from me, sitting on the extreme edge of his chair and averting his face like he smelled something bad. Inconspicuously, I sniffed my hair. It smelled like strawberries, the scent of my favorite shampoo. It seemed an innocent enough odor. I let my hair fall over my right shoulder, making a dark curtain between us, and tried to pay attention to the teacher.

Unfortunately the lecture was on cellular anatomy, something I'd already studied. I took notes carefully anyway, always looking down.

I couldn't stop myself from peeking occasionally through the screen of my hair at the strange boy next to me. During the whole class, he never relaxed his stiff position on the edge of his chair, sitting as far from me as possible. I could see his hand on his left leg was clenched into a fist, tendons standing out under his pale skin. This, too, he never relaxed. He had the long sleeves of his white shirt pushed up to his elbows, and his forearm was surprisingly hard and muscular beneath his light skin. He wasn't nearly as slight as he looked next to his burly brother.

The class seemed to drag on longer than the others. Was it because the day was finally coming to a close, or because I was waiting for his tight fist to loosen? It never did; he continued to sit so still it looked like he wasn't. What was wrong with him? Was this his normal behavior? I questioned my judgment on Jessica's bitterness at lunch today. Maybe she was not as resentful as I'd thought.

It couldn't have anything to do with me. He didn't know me from Eve.

I peeked up at him one more time, and regretted it. He was glaring down at me again, his black eyes full of revulsion. As I flinched away from him, shrinking against my chair, the phrase _if looks could kill_ suddenly ran through my mind.

At that moment, the bell rang loudly, making me jump, and Edward Cullen was out of his seat. Fluidly he rose—he was much taller than I'd thought—his back to me, and he was out the door before anyone else was out of their seat.

I sat frozen in my seat, staring blankly after him. He was so mean. It wasn't fair. I began gathering my things slowly; trying to block the anger that filled me for fear my eyes would tear up. For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency.

"Aren't you Isabella Swan?" A male voice asked.

I looked up to see a cute, baby-faced boy; his pale blond hair carefully gelled in orderly spikes, smiling at me in a friendly way. He obviously didn't think I smelled bad.

"Bella," I corrected with a smile.

"I'm Mike, Mike Newton."

"Hi, Mike."

"Do you need any help finding your next class?"

"I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it."

"That's my next class, too." He seemed thrilled, though it wasn't that big of a coincidence in a school this small.

We waited to class together; he was a chattered—he supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me. He'd lived in California till he was ten, so he knew how I felt about the sun. It turned out he was in my English class also. He was the nicest person I'd met today.

But as we were entering the gym, he asked, "So, did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what? I've never seen him act like that."

"Was that the boy I sat next to in Biology?" I asked, playing dumb.

"Yes," he said. "He looked like he was in pain or something."

"I don't know," I responded. "I never spoke to him."

"He's a weird guy." Mike lingered by me instead of heading to the dressing room. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you."

I smiled at him before walking through the girls' locker room door. He was friendly and clearly admiring.

The Gym teacher, Coach Clapp, found me a uniform but didn't make me dress for todays' class. At home only two years of P.E. were required. Here P.E. was mandatory all four years. Forks was my personal hell on Earth.

I watched four volleyball games running simultaneously. Remembering how many injuries I had sustained—and inflicted—playing the sport, I felt nauseated.

I ran for the bathroom in the girls' locker room . . . and vomited. I gathered my things and walked to the front office. The rain had drifted away, but the wind was strong, and colder. I wrapped my arms around myself.

"How'd your first day go, dear?" The receptionist asked maternally.

"Fine," I fibbed, my voice weak.

My truck seemed like a haven, already the closest thing to home I had in this damp green hole. I sat inside for a while, letting the heat fill the cab. I hurried to Charlies' house, eager to make supper.

When I got out of my truck I saw something on the front step. I walked closer and saw a dozen red roses and a box of chocolates. A pink card was attached to the roses. On the inside was a message in elegant gold letters. It said:

_Bella, I hope you and the baby are well. My thoughts are in Forks with you. Enjoy the chocolates._

_Joseph _

I smiled and smelled the roses. Joseph was the father of my baby, ever since he found out about the baby he sends roses, chocolates, gift baskets, cards, and beautiful jewelry that I think costs over a hundred dollars. I unlocked my front door and hurry to put the roses in a vase, setting my school things on the counter. I put the vase of roses in the kitchen on the table.

I microwaved leftover steak and had taken it out to cut it up when I heard a knock on the door.

I was confused, who would be knocking on my door?

I hurried to the door and yanked it open; I suddenly stood face to face with Joseph. He had dark brown hair that was long in front and short in the back and sides. His face was smooth and tan, with an angular chin. His full pouty lips were soft and gentle. His shoulders were broad, tan, and muscular but not in the extreme. His chest and abdomen were slightly visible through his light colored t-shirt, hard, lean, and muscular. His legs were clad in blue jeans. His eyes, the same chocolate brown as mine, shown with laughter when he saw my shock.

"Hey, Bella." Joseph stepped forward and gave me a hug, releasing all of me but one hand. His hands were strong and sturdy yet soft and gentle. "It's good to see you. Can I come in?"

"Yeah." I snapped out of my trance, I still couldn't believe he was here.

He gently rubbed my abdomen before entering the house. "How have you been doing?"

"We've been fine. The doctor says the baby is doing great. I was just getting myself some steak. Would you like anything?"

"I'll cook for myself. Go eat, Bella."

I quickly showed him around the kitchen and sat down to cut my steak. Joseph gathered some things to make Sloppy Joes. I watched him silently for a moment.

"Joseph, why did you come to Forks?" I asked, blurting out my thoughts.

"Well, Bells, I wanted to help around the house a little bit and take care of you. You and the baby, I mean." He paused. "If that's alright with you, of course," he added quickly.

"Sure, of course it is, I'm just a little surprised. I just now received your gifts."

"I sent those before I made up my mind to come here. No one back home besides you, me Liz, Renée and maybe Phil know about the baby. I haven't told the firm."

That miffed me a little bit and I didn't one hundred percent know why. I scoffed and left the table, striding towards the stairs to go to my room. Joseph caught wind that something had upset me. He hurried past me and stopped in front of me, blocking my path. He touched my arms. "What's wrong?"

I didn't answer, just tried to pass him.

"Hey, wait! I didn't mean that in a bad way, like this baby wasn't worth mentioning. I didn't tell them because they wouldn't have let me go if I had. I wouldn't have been able to come here to see you. I love this baby, Bella. You know that don't you? Eh?" He stroked my cheek.

"Yeah, I know."

"Will you sit down with me? We have some things to talk about."

"Alright, but eat your Sloppy Joes first."

Joseph and I sat down at the kitchen table together; I patiently waited for him to finish eating before I spoke. He decided to speak first.

"How was your first day?" He asked gently.

"It was fine. I threw up, though."

"Ooh, that's not fun."

"Nope, I met this Edward guy. He was such a jerk, he doesn't know me from Eve and he glared at me. Really glared at me, like a death glare or something. I was scared for the baby."

"What kind of a man does that?" From Josephs' tone I knew he didn't like Edward. "What man glares at an innocent passerby?"

"I don't know. So, what's the plan?" I asked casually, crossing my arms over my stomach and adjusting my position in my seat.

"Well, help you as much as possible until the baby arrives, work from here, and see how it all goes."

"Not bad. Not bad at all. But where will you be sleeping?"

"On the couch, I suppose. If Charlie approves I'll have my luggage in his room."

"I see."

"Bells, in my line of work you need to be ready to improvise."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Okay, Joseph, if you think you'll be comfortable go right ahead. Does Charlie know about any of this?"

"No."

"Did you stop by the station to see him?"

"Nope."

"Okay, then. Um, let's go watch TV or something." I rose from my chair and walked awkwardly beside Joseph.

He spun on his heel. "Wait a minute! Don't you have homework to do?"

"Right, I do have homework. Go ahead and watch whatever you want. I'll be down after a while."

The rest of the night was homework and television.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day was better . . . and worse.

It was better because it wasn't raining yet, thought the clouds were dense and opaque. It was worse because Charlie didn't like that Joseph came to the house without sending word first. It was worse because I knew what to expect of my day. Mike came to sit by me in English, and walked me to my next class with Eric glaring at him all the while; that was flattering. I sat with a big group at lunch and began to feel like I was treading water, not drowning in it.

It was worse because I was tired; I still couldn't sleep well with the wind echoing around the house. I hated that Mr. Varner called on me when my hand wasn't raised and I didn't have an answer, causing the class to laugh at me.

All morning I dreaded seeing Edward Cullen at lunch, fearing his flares. But he was not there; his siblings were sitting at the same table.

Mike intercepted us and steered us to his table. Jessica seemed elated by his attention, and her friends quickly joined us. I rose from the table in the middle of the easy chatter to call Joseph. He answered his cell on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey. Is work going good?"

"Yeah, a little slow at the moment but I finally overcame that slump I've been in for a few weeks. The Andrews case is almost wrapped up."

"That's great. Do you have another case to start?"

"Yes, actually, I do. Ryan thought I was perfect for a big murder case, Wayde vs. Miller, it's supposed to be a really good one."

"Congratulations, Joseph, that's amazing! Anyway, I wanted to check in and say that things are going smoothly. I will be home soon. Bye, Joseph."

"Thanks, Bell, bye."

I hung up and smiled a bit, walking back inside to sit at the table. Jess looked up at me curiously. "Who was that, Bella?"

"A friend from Phoenix who just wanted to say hey, asked how things were going so far."

"Alright, what did you say?"

"That things were going great."

I sat back down between Angela and Laure, my thoughts distant. The bell rang, sending me tp Biology with a little more confidence when, by the end of lunch, Edward hadn't showed. Mike, who was taking on the qulaities of a golden retreiver, walked faithfully by my side to class; Edward wasn't there either, thankfully. I went to my seat and Mike followed, talking about the upcoming trip to the beach. He lingered by my desk until the bell rang.

I was releived that I had the desk to myself, that Edward was absent. I told myself that repeatedly. But I couldn't shake the suspicion that I was the reason he wasn't there. It was ridiculous . . . impossible.

I was absolutely dreading gym, Mike watched me with concern, when we arrived at the gymnasium I sat on the bleachers and put my face in my hands. i watched the volleyball game after a moment and then suddenly felt queasy, running to the girls' locker room to vomit. . . again. Yuck! I changed into my jeans and navy blue sweater, hurrying from the locker room to get to my truck.

Last night I had discovered that Charlie couldn't cook much besides fried eggs and bacon. So I requested that I, along with Joseph, be assigned kitchen duty for the duration of my (out]r) stay. Charlie was willing enough to hand over the keys to the banquet hall. Joseph surprised us with his slow baked ham recipe, it was _amazing_! I also found out that we had no food in the house. I knew Joseph would insist on going shopping for me since I had homework and other bull about taking care of me. I rolled my eyes; I didn't him to go shopping for me. I could go myself. He had work to do.

I stopped halfway to my truck, a figure was leaning against the hood. My heart skipped a beat, then went ahead full throttle while my breathing accelerated. The figure straightened a little and seemed to look directly at me. "Hey, Bells."

Joseph.

I sighed in relief, willing my body to calm down, and started walking to him. "Holy shit, Joseph! You scared the shit out of me! I didn't recognize you. Don't do that, okay? If you are going to stop by, say something about it please."

"I'm sorry, Bell, I didn't mean to startle you. Is the baby okay?" His soft brown eyes were ashamed.

I smiled reassuringly at him. "Yeah, the baby is okay. I know you didn't mean to startle me. Let's go home and watch some TV, kay?"

"Okay. What's that?" He reached across the seat to grab the paper dangling from my bag. The shopping list. "You didn't tell me we needed groceries, Bells."

"I was going to get them later." I shrugged, starting the truck.

"I'll take the Jaguar so you can do your homework."

I sighed in exasperation. "Joseph, I can go myself. I'm a big girl."

"I need something to do other than being locked up in Charlies' house all day working, Bells. Besides, you have homework to do."

"Fine." I gave in with poor grace. I didn't need him to take care of me.

"Don't be angry, Bella." Joseph said gently, making me instantly hate how his tone warmed my insides. I had the urge to draw my hand back when he took my hand in his.

"I'm not."

"What do you want for dinner tonight?"

"_Joseph_!"

"What?" His soft brown eyes filled with surprise at my shrill tone.

"I. Can. Cook." I said through gritted teeth. "I can go to the grocery store to buy groceries. I can clean the house when its dirty and I can cook when I'm hungry!"

"Bella, calm down please. You'll hurt the baby." He said quietly before briefly pausing. "I know you can do that stuff but some days you'll be exhausted from school and the pregnancy so you'll need me to do it. I _want_ to take care of you and our baby. Starting now."

I took a few deep breaths to settle down. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. I didn't mean it. Pregnant woman craziness, I guess. Forgive me?"

"You're forgiven. You never answered my question, though. What would you like to eat tonight?"

"Hmm. Why don't we have steak? I haven't had steak in a while."

"As you wish." Joseph chuckled and put the shopping list in his jeans pocket.

I pulled into the driveway in fron of Charlies' a bit reluctantly, not wanting to start homework yet. Joseph seemed to sense my reluctance and squeezed my hand in reassurance. I sighed and turned off the truck, might as well get it over with.

I started reaching for the key under the eave, but Joseph reached around me to push the door open. I turned and raised my eyebrows at him, he just looked at the ground and shrugged. I sat my bag down on the kitchen counter and looked through the fridge for womething to nibble on while I started my homework. A jar of Kosher Dill pickles caught my eye so I pulled them out and found some chocolate ice cream in the freezer. I ignored Josephs' curious gaze and spooned some ice cream into a medium glass bowl. I wrapped my pickles in paper towels for a moment to draw the excess juice out and then proceeded to the living room couch, sitting cross-legged with a few pillows behind my back.

I carefully unwrapped the first pickle and dipped it into the ice cream, making sure it didn't heap too high, and chewed. An unavoidable moan of pleasure escaped my mouth, the concoction was pure heaven after a long day.

Joseph peered around the corner leading to the dining room and cocked his head to the side, brown eyes curious. I held up another ice cream pickle and consumed it under his gaze, closing my eyes in content. I opened my eyes after a moment and had to purse my lips to stop myself from laughing at his disgusting expression.

"Don't knock it until you try it." I giggled, holding an ice cream covered pickle out to him while careful not to let it drip onto the floor. He stared at it for a moment, looking like he was deciding whether or not he wanted to taste it.

Finally, he shrugged and took the pickle, popping it into his mouth. "Hmm. Not too bad, actually."

"See? You made it seem so horrible for no reason. Pregnant lady food isn't as bad as some people think it is."

"Why do you eat it, though?"

I thought about that for a minute. "I don't know. I guess because I like it and it sort of satisfies my cravings for crazy things like this. The day before I came here I had a peanut butter and mayo sandwhich."

"Ew. That's a bit too gross for me."

"Like I said, don't knock it until you try it."

"No, thanks. I'll pass."

"I shoult go upstairs now." I sighed, putting my ice cream and pickles to the side so I could stand up. Joseph handed me my bag, our hands brushed for a second and I instantly looked away. "See you later, Joseph."

"I'm gonna head to the store while you do your homework. Call me if you need anything."

"Alright, Joseph."

I sighed and trudged upstairs with my food and bag, throwing my bad on my bed I sat my food on my bedside table. I searched my bag for my Trig and Biology books and a notebook for each subject. Before I started my homework I pulled my damp hair into a ponytail to see better. I struggled through my Trig for a while, cursing and frowning at myself. _Why didn't I ask Joseph for help before he left_? I growled to myself, pushing my Trig book away and focusing on my Biology.

A car door closed outside. . . and then another, followed by the front door opening and closing. I shot up and flung myself out the door, taking the stairs two at a time. Joseph was home, I could finally get some Trig done.

"Hey!" I gasped, breathing hard and clutching the stitch in my side.

"Hey, Bells. What's with the breathless greeting?" He grinned, setting grocery bags on the table. His smile quickly faded when he looked from me to the stairs. "Bella, you _ran_? You shouldn't be running at all let alone run down the stairs. You could have tripped and fallen!"

I sighed, making the stitch in my side hurt even more. "Joseph, could you please not lecture me right now? I need help with my homework when you're done putting the groceries away."

He silently unloaded the groceries, absolutely refusing to let me help and stuffed them in wherever he could find an open space. When he finished with that he wrapped potatoes in aluminum foil for me and stuck them in the oven to bake while I covered steaks in maranade and balanced them on top of a carton of eggs in the fridge. We went upstairs, both grimacing at the thought of Trig equations. I allowed him to change into dry clothes, putting my Trig book away until after dinner.

He walked in a moment later wearing a very form fitting black t-shirt and blue jeans. I had to take an unsteady breath and turn to my Biology book. "Are you ready to get to work?"

"Not really, let's do it."


	5. Chapter 5

A little while later I decided to check my e-mail for the first time. I had three messages.

_Bella, write me as soon as you get in. Tell me how your flight was. Is it raining? I miss you already. How is the baby? I'm almost finished packing for Florida, but I can't find my pink blouse. Do you know where I put it? Phil says hi. Mom. _

I sighed and went on to the next. It was exactly eight hours after the first.

_Bella, why haven't you e-mailed me yet? What are you waiting for? Mom. _

The last was from this morning.

_Isabella, if I haven't heard from you by 5:30 pm today I'm calling Charlie. _

I checked the clock. I still had an hour, but my mom was well known for jumping the gun.

_Mom, c__alm down. I'm writing now. Don't do anything rash. _

_Bella._

I sent that and began again.

_Mom, e__verything is great. Of course it's raining. I was waiting for something to write about. School isn't bad, just a little repetitive. I met some nice kids who sit by me at lunch. _

_Your blouse is at the dry cleaners-you were supposed to pick it up Friday. _

_Charlie bought me a truck, can you believe it? I love it. It's old, but sturdy, which is good, you know, for me. _

_Joseph came here, to Forks! I came home from school and he just appeared on Charlies' doorstep. He says he wants to stay until I have the baby so he can help. Did you know he was coming? Wait, never mind I know you didn't. He says hi. Mom, did you tell Phil? About the baby, I mean. I know he's been worried becaus of all the doctors' visits. You can tell him now. I just hope that he isn't angry with us for keeping all of this from him. I miss you, too. I'll write again soon, but I'm not going to check my e-mail every five seconds. Relax, breathe. I love you._

_Bella. _

"Renee worried?"Josephs' voice purred in my ear, making me jump.

"Don't do that! It is rude to read over someone's shoulder. Especially if it is an e-mail that has nothing to do with you." I growled, smacking at him. He neatly dodged my hand and grinned slyly.

"From what I read I _was_ part of the e-mail. Therefore it does have something to do with me."

I blushed scarlet while he chuckled, walking down the stairs to the living room.

I had decided to read _Wuthering Heights_-the novel we were studying in English-yet again for the fun of it, and that is what I was doing when Charlie came home. I had completely lost track of time, and I hurried downstairs to take the potatoes out and put the steaks in to broil.

"Bella?" My father called out when he heard me on the stairs.

Who else? I thought to myself. Well, besides Joseph, I amended.

"Hey, Dad, welcome home."

"Thanks, Bells. He hung up his gun belt and stepped out of his boots as I bustled around the kitchen. As far as I was aware Charlie had never shot the gun on the job. But he kept it ready. When I came here as a child, he would always remove the bullets as soon as he walked through the door. I guess he considered me old enought now not to shoot myself by accident and not depressed enough to shoot myself on purpose.

"What's for dinner?" He asked warily. My mother had always been an imaginative cook, and her experiments weren't always edible. I was surprised, and sad, that he seemed to remember that far back.

"Steak and potatoes," I answered and he looked relieved. "Joseph is in the living room watching TV. You can join him while I finish up in here."

He shrugged and lumbered into the living room to watch TV with Joseph while I worked. We were more comfortable that way. I made a salad while the steaks cooked and set the table.

I called them in when dinner was ready and they sniffed the air appreciatively.

"Smells good, Bell." Charlie said, grabbing a plate and plastic plate holder.

"Mmm, smells wonderful! Thanks, Bells." Joseph commented, grinning as he forked up a steak.

"Thanks, guys. No problem."

We all ate in silence for a few minutes. It wasn't uncomfortble. None of us were bothered by the quiet. In some ways we were all well suited to live together.

"So how did you like school? Did you make any friends?" Charlie asked as he forked up seconds.

"Well, I have classes with a girl named Jessica, I sit with her and her friends at lunch. And there's this boy, Mike, who's very friendly. Everybody seems pretty nice." With one outstanding exception. Joseph looked at me with cautious eyes, he'd noticed my mood.

"That must be Mike Newton. Nice kids-nice family. His dad owns the sports good store just outside of town. He makes a good living off all the back packers that come through here."

"Bells, did you want to start taking your lunch to school so you could be sure you had enough to eat? Put some extra stuff in for snacks if you get hungry later or maybe a bit before lunch." Joseph looked directly at me, expression calculating.

"No, the school lunch is fine, Joseph. Thanks for the suggestion anyway." I smiled apologetically at him.

Charlie looked from Joseph to me for a moment, flicking back and forth with dizzying speed. "So, Joseph what do you do?"

"I'm a lawyer for the Brighton Law Firm in Phoenix." Joseph answered easily.

"A lawyer? Hm interesting. And what are you doing here in Forks?"

I winced, waiting for the torrent.

"I came to help Bella until our baby is born. I want to take care of them both."

"You're the father?" Charlie growled out, grip tightening on his fork.

"Dad, please don't." I begged.

"Yes, I am." Joseph answered proudly.

"Where did you meet my Bella?"

"Through our church in Phoenix."

"Church? What kind of a man meets a woman in _church_ and gets her _pregnant_?"

"_Dad_!" I gasped.

"No, it's fine, Bella." Joseph had remained calm.

"No it's not." I couldn't look at Charlie. "It's not fine because this was my choice and my father should not be taking it out on you. It's not fine because he's trying to say you're a bad person and you're _not_. It's not fine at all." I don't know why I started to cry. I quickly stood up and walked into the living room, hastily wiping away tears.

Josephs' arms were around me, pulling into his warm chest. I hid my face there, breathing in the comforting scent of his favorite cologne. I let him hold me, gradually calming down. When I was calm I pulled away, still looking down. He put a long tanned finger under my chin, tuggin my face up gently but firmly.

"It's okay, Bells. Let's go back to the dining room and finish eating. You need a full meal, maybe more, depending." He chuckled softly, leading me into the kitchen.

I sighed and let go of his hand, walking behind him as we entered the kitchen. I kept my eyes on my plate as I sat back down, lifting my fork and trying not to let my nervousness show. It would be embarrassing if my hands shook now. Charlie, Joseph, and I finished eating in complete silence. It was better in a way.

I left the table to gather the dishes and sighed as I looked at the grease covered pan left from Charlies' lunch. I grabbed the handle and carefully slid it toward me, attempting to not spill the left over grease. I ceased my movements when a large tan hand rested on the pan handle in front of my smaller hand. I slowly turned my head to look up at Joseph.

His warm brown eyes were soft and smiled at me. "I'll do the dishes tonight. You should go finish your homework so you can get some rest."

"I can do it." I almost hissed, hating how he still had power over me; how he could still make my head swim and my knees weak.

"I know that, Bells. I just wanted to give you a break from house work tonight so you could go to bed early. I've forgotten how stubborn you can be."

"Alright, I'll let you do dishes. But only because I have Trig homework. By the way could you help me with my Trig? I'm completely lost."

The tall lawyer looked slightly uncomfortable. "I could try."

"Thank you, Joseph." I turned and walked up the stairs to my bedroom, smiling softly to myself as I brought out my Trig book and notebook. After a few minutes of attempting to decipher the text I decided to change into more comfortable clothes, I still had time before Joseph joined me. I dug out a pair of gray sweatpants and my black silk tanktop.

I removed my jeans and t-shirt slowly, thinking about how I met Joseph. He'd been a complete gentleman, so sweet and kind as he offered to hang my coat for me. His brown eyes twinkled as he smiled his one thousand watt smile at me. After the service Joseph found me again and we talked a while, forgetting that we both had people waiting for us. I shook my head and reached for my sweats.

I had my pants halfway on when Joseph opened the door. I pulled my pants the rest of the way on and threw my tank top over my torso, trying to quickly end his view of my black lace bra.

He looked down quickly, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry. You asked me to help you with Trig?"

"Yes. I just-I thought I had time to change before you came up here. I guess I was wrong."

"Yeah . . . "

"It's nothing you haven't seen before, Joseph."

I looked up and immediately wished I hadn't; Joseph had an intense, unfocused look in his eyes. He crossed the room in three quick steps, taking me in his arms and kissing me. I ran my hands over his powerfuly shoulders, suddenly feeling my knees weaken. His mouth made blazing kisses down my neck, exploring the sensitive skin there while his hands caressed every part of me they could reach and giving my ass a squeeze. My breath came in gasps and I was making quiet noises that I didn't recognize while a persistent heat pulsed between my thighs, making it difficult to think about anything else.

"Your noises sound so good." He moaned against my neck, his heated breath making me tremble.

He lifted his mouth to mind and circled my lips with his tongue, waiting entry. I gasped when his large erection pressed between my thighs; he seized the opportunity to gain entrance, exploring my mouth.

His hands roamed over my body again, deflty removing my clothes. I somehow managed to force my hands between our bodies enough to unbutton his shirt, ripping it off of his shoulders and tossing the offending object away. My fingertips slid down the muscles of his chest and rolling abdomen, he shivered under the touch. I don't know how we got our other clothes off so quickly but we were naked and caressing more desperately. He lifted me a little and sat me on the bed, gently pushing me back so he could hover over me.

He kissed down my body, stopping at my abdomen and retracing his path to my breasts. He turned to the left breast first, flicking out his tongue over the puckered nub before taking it in his mouth and grazing it with his teeth causing a wave of pleasure that rocked my core. I moaned, arching into him and tightly grabbing his shoulders. I could feel the moisture building between my thighs, threatening to spill onto my sheets. Joseph lifted his head and kissed me long and slow, suddenly thrusting his fingers into my entrance twisting them as he plunged them in and pulled them almost all the way out before plunging them in again with a little more force. I moaned loudly, digging my nails into his shoulders. My hands relaxed when he pulled his fingers out only to grip his hair harder then necessary when he began sucking on my clit. I sucked in a ragged breath when his warm tongue entered me, pumping me fast and hard like I needed him to. I tangled my fingers into his choloate hair and pushed his face into my pussy, streghtening my hold when I felt my lower stomach muscles tighten and the spasms violently rock through me as I came hard screaming his name. I stared up into Josephs' heated brown eyes, darker than usual with lust.

"Oh!" I moaned as his manhood entered me. He moved slowly at first, pressing against my walls, his tempo incresed with the intensity of my moans. My hips rolled up to meet him on their own accord, causing him to gasp and moan into my neck. His rhythm sped up as his control ebbed away, pounding into me again and again until I felt my orgasm building up. He tensed and with a firm thrust he sent me over the edge. I moaned into his shoulder and leaned back my head when I felt the second wave soming. With a final wet thrust he sent us both over the edge in a joint orgasm, his manhood throbbing inside me. We rode it out as long as we could before out bodies finally gave up, turning limp.

He didn't let himself collapse on me but pushed away and rolled onto his side, holding out his arms for me to lay with him. I scooted over to him and lay my head on his chest, falling asleep to the sound of his heart beating.


	6. Chapter 6

My first weekend in Forks passed without incident; I ensured no more sexual encounters occurred. I knew what happened with Joseph was wrong and I should have stopped it instead of letting my lust overrun me. Charlie, unused to spending time in the usually empty house, worked most of the weekend. I avoided Joseph as much as possible, got ahead on my homework, and wrote my mother every day. Of course I didn't tell Renee about haveing sex with Joseph recently. I did drive to the library on Saturday, but it was so poorly stocked that I didn't bother to get a card; I would have to visit Olympia or Setlle to find a good bookstore.

The rain stayed quiet the rest of the weekend, so I was able to sleep well.

People greeted me in the parking lot Monday morning. I didn't know all their names, but I waved back and smiled at everyone. It was colder this morning, but happily not raining. In English, Mike took his accustomed seat by my side. We had a pop quiz on _Wuthering Heights_. It was straighforward, very easy.

All in all, I was feeling comfortable, more comfortable than I ever expected to feel here.

When we walked out of class, the air was full of swirling bits of white. I could hear people shouting excitedly to each other. The wind bit at my cheeks, my nose.

"Wow," Mike said. "It's really snowing."

I looked at the little cotton fluffs that were building up along the sidewalk and swirling eratically past my face.

"Ew." Snow. There went my good day.

He looked surprised. "Don't you like snow?"

"No. It's too cold and wet for me. Besides, I thought it was supposed to come down in flakes-you know, each one unique and all that. These just look like the ends of Q-tips."

"Haven't you ever seen snow before?" He asked incredulously

I looked down; trying to fight the urge to throw up. I didn't feel well enough to attempt eating.

"What's with Bella?"

"Sure I have." I paused for a minute. "On TV."

Mike laughed, and then a big squishy ball of dripping snow smacked into the back of his head. We both runed to see where it come from. I had my suspicions about Eric, who was walking away, his back toward us, in the wrong direction for his next class. Mike apparently had the same notion. He bent over and began scraping together a pile of the white mush.

"I'll see you at lunch, okay?" I kept walking as I spoke. "Once people start throwing wet stuff, I go inside."

He just nodded, his eyes on Eric's retreating figure.

Throughout the morning, everyone chatted excitedly about the snow; apparently it was the first snowfall of the new year. I kept my mouth shut.

My phone vibrated off the hook during Spanish, I checked the caller I.D. and ignored it when I saw it was Joseph. What did _he_ want? Finally, after a few more calls, he seemed to get the idea that I wasn't picking up. When I opened the door I was shocked to see him leaning against the opposit wall. I didn't get a chance to confront him since Jessica walked out of class that moment. I walked alertly to the cafeteria with Jessica and Joseph; he had positioned himself between me and Jess.

"So, Bella who is your friend?" Jess asked, looking Joseph over a few times, trying to make it as unnoticeable as possible that she was checking him out.

"This is Joseph. He's a lawyer from Phoenix." I tried to ignore the irritation building up inside my chest. "He's the friend I talked to last week. He's staying a while . . . business purposes."

Joseph looked directly at me meaningfully. "Yes, there is a really important case going on here. Big opportunity."

I swallowed and looked away. His last words unnerved me, and his wording was careless. He might as well have screamed "Bella Swan is pregnant with my baby" at the top of his lungs.

Jess giggled. "How did you meet Bella?"

"Through our church actually. We've known each other a while now. She volunteered to let me stay with her and her father so I didn't have to find a motel outside of town."

"How nice of here."

"Guys I'm right here." I found myself wanting to gag Joseph and give Jess an enormous piece of my mind right now.

Joseph chuckled. "We know that, Bell. You're just being unusually quiet today."

Buddy if you knew what I was thinking you wouldn't be chuckling, I thought darkly. I began picturing ways of gagging him and throwing him in my truck so I could dump him tied up on the side of the road outside Seattle. Someone would pick him up and with luck drag his butt back to Arizona. I noticed Jessica kept checking him out. She was seriously getting on my nerves with the way she was eyeing Joseph. For shit's sake it looks like she's inspecting a piece of meat or worse, undressing him with her eyes. I swear if the slut looks at him one more time I'm gonna knock her ass out and hire a team of surgeons to turn "Jessica" into "Jake."

Mush balls were flying everywhere. I kept a binder in my hands, ready to use it as a shield if necessary. Jessica and Joseph thought I was hilarious, but his suggestion kept her from lobbing a snowball at me herself.

Mike caught up to us as we walked in the doors, laughing, with ice melting the spikes in his hair. He, Jessica, and Joseph were talking animatedly about the snow fight as we got in line to buy food. Joseph admitted he hadn't taken in part in it and fed Mike some crap about wanting to escort me and Jessica saefly to the cafeteria. I glanced toward the table in the corner out of habit. And then I froze where I stood. I suddenly felt ill, must be a combination of the baby and the cold.

Jessica pulled on my arm. "Hello? Bella? What do you want?"

I looked down; trying to fight the urge to throw up. I didn't feel well enought to attempt eating.

"What's with Bella?" Mike asked Jessica.

"Nothing." I answered. "I'll just have a water today." I caught up at the end of the line.

"Aren't you hungry?" Jessica asked.

"Actually, I feel sick," I said, my eyes still on the floor.

I waited for them to get their food, and then followed them to a table, my eyes on my feet.

I sipped my water slowly, my stomach churning. Twice Joseph asked, with unnecessary concern, how I was feeling. I told him it was nothing, but I was wondering if I should play it up and escape to the nurses office for the next hour. A small vibrating in my pocket made me jump a little.

_Eveyrthing okay, Bells_?

Joseph.

_I just feel a little ill today. Nothing to worry about. _

_Bella is there something you should tell me?_

I hoped he couldn't hear my breathing, my breath hitched a little.

_Like? _

_Why didn't you pick up the phone? I called you four times. _

_I didn't have my ringer on, I'm sorry. What were you calling about?_

_I wanted to check on you. When you didn't answer I thought something happened and I became worried_.

_I'm sorry, Joseph. I was in class. _

_Bella, we should talk about last week._

I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth I really didn't want to think about the events of last week, let alone talk about them.

_Joseph, please . . . I really don't want to talk about it. Not now. Not today. All I want to do is go home_.

There was a pause.

_I know, I'm sorry. Do you want me to sign you out_?

My desire to go home warred with my instinct screaming at me not to be alone with him, to not go home with him.

_I shouldn't. I'm not too sick and I'll miss enough days when I have the baby. I can stick it out for a little while longer. I promise not to faint or anything_.

_Maybe it's not a good idea. Morning sickness and feeling ill in the middle of the afternoon are two different things. Something could be wrong_.

_And you could just be worrying about nothing. You can't make me leave, Joseph._

_Alright, you can stay. _

_You make it sound like I need your permission._

Joseph smiled a little bit.

_No, you don't. But I would prefer you leaving to be on the safe side_.

_We should stop texting. People are going to suspect something_.

I put my head in my hands for a while. I head in my hands for a while. I heard laughing from the Cullen family's table and lifted my head a little. They were laughing. Edward, Jasper and Emmett all had their hair entirely saturated with melting snow. Alice and Rosalie were leaning away as Emmett shook his dripping hari toward them. They were enjoying the snowy day just like everyone else-only they looked more like a scene from a movie than the rest of us.

But, aside from the laughter and playfulness, there was something different, and I couldn't quite pinpoint what the difference was. Edwards' pale skin was flushed from the snow fight and the cirles under his eyes were much less noticeable. He didn't look harsh or unfriendly as he had the last time I'd seen him.

Mike was planning an epic battle of the blizzard in the parking lot after school and wanted us to join. Jessica agreed enthusiastically. The way she looked at Mike left little doubt that she would be up for anything he suggested. Joseph and I remained silent. I would have to hide in the gym until the parking lot cleared.

For the rest of the lunch hour I kept my head down. My stomach doing nauseating flips. I didn't really want to walk with Mike and Joseph to class as usual-Mike seemed to be a very popular target for the snowball snipers-but when we went out the door, everyone besides me groaned in unison. It was raining, washing all traves of the snow away in clear, icy ribbons down the side of the walk way. I pulled my head up, secretly please. I would be free to go straight home after gym.

Mike kept up a string of curses and complaints on the way to building four. Joseph only made a single remark about regretting not getting to throw a snowball before the snow melted.

Once inside the classroom, I saw my table was still empty. Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing one microscope and box of slides to each table. Class didn't start for a mew minutes and the room buzzed with conversation. I kept my eyes away from the door, and texting Joseph about baby names.

I heard very clearly when Edward's assigned chair moved, but my eyes stayed carefully focused on my phone screen.

"Hello." Said a quiet voice from beside me.


	7. Chapter 7

I looked up, stunned that he was speaking to me. He was sitting as far away from me as the desk allowed, but his chair was angled toward me. His hair was dripping wet, dishelved-even so, he looked like he'd just finished shooting a commercial for hair gel. His face was friendly, open, a slight smile on his lips. But his eye were careful.

"My name is Edward Cullen," he continued. "I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Bella Swan."

My mind was spinning, had I imagined the whole thing? He was being perfectly polite now.

"How did you know to call me Bella? I prefer Bella, but everyone else has been calling me Isabella."

"No one likes being called their full name is they can help it."

"This is Joseph. A friend from Phoenix." I gestured at Joseph, who was seated beside me.

"Hello, Edward." Joseph's eyes were hard and his body was tense.

What a well toned body that was, I thought before I caught myself, shaking my head to clear it.

Edward looked away, letting the subject drop. I narrowed my eyes at Joseph, focusing on his face, and opening my phone to text.

_What are you doing_?

Josephs answer was almost immediate.

_I don't trust this guy. You told me yourself you were afraid for our babies' life when you last saw him. Now he's playing nice? Something isn't right_.

_But do you have to openly display your distrust?_

_Does it make you feel uncomfortable? Do you still fell sick? _

_Yes and yes. Nether of you are helping the issue. _

_Sorry, Bells._

_You know I can't stay mad at you when you make that face. _

He chuckled, turning his ashamed face into an amused expression. Then curiousity took over. _What face_?

Er. . . I couldn't tell him that I thought he was a tall, tan, gorgeous sex god.

Thankfully Mr. Banner started class at that moment. I tried to concentrate as he explained the lab we would be doing today. The slides in the box were out of order. Working as lab partners, we had to seperate the slides of onion root cells into the phases of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly. We weren't supposed to use our books. In twenty minutes, he would be coming around to see who had it right.

"Get started," he commanded.

"Ladies first?" Edward asked. I looked up to see a crooked smile.

"My pleasure." I snapped the first slide into place under the microscope lens and adjusted it quickly to the 40X objective. I studied the slide briefly.

My assessment was confident. "Prophase."

"Do you mind if I look?" He asked as I began to remove the slide. His hand caught mine, to stop me, as he asked. His fingers were still ice-cold, like he'd been holding them in a snowdrift before class. But that wasn't why I jerked my hands away so quickly. When he touched me, it stung my hands as if an electric current had passed through us. My hands dropped to my abdomen automatically.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, pulling his hand back immediately. However, he continued to reach for the miscroscope. He studied the slide for an even briefer time than I had.

I shot a look at Joseph and lay a hand on his arm, causing him to pause in the middle of standing up. He looked ready to fight, defensive.

"Are you alright?" He asked, glaring at Edward. I caught the double meaning in his words.

"I'm fine." I put the same double meaning in my message.

Joseph relaxed a little, melting into his seat beside me. Edward had written prophase in the first space on our worksheet. He swiftly switched out the first slide for the second, and then glanced at it cursorly.

"Anaphase," he murmured, writing it down as he spoke.

I kept my voice indifferent. "May I?"

He smirked and pushed the microscope to me.

I looked through the eyepiece eagerly, only to be disappointed. Dang it, he was right.

"Slide three?" I held out my hand without looking him.

He handed it to me; it seemed like he was being careful not to touch my skin again.

I took the most fleeting look I could manage.

"Interphase." I passed him the microscope before he could ask for it. He took a swift peek, and then wrote it down.

We were finished before anyone else was close. I could see Mike and his partner comparing two slides again and again, and another group had their book open under the table.

Edward was staring at me, the same inexplicable look of frustration in his eyes.

I was sure something was different about him. I vividly remembered the flat black color of his eyes the last time he glared at me. Today, his eyes were a completely differed color: a strange ocher, darker than butterscotch, but with the same golden tone. I didn't understand how that could be. Maybe Forks and my pregnancy were making me crazy in the literal sense of the word. His hands were clenched into fists again.

Suddenly I had a strange sensation spreading through my stomach. I gently rubbed my stomach under the table.

Mr. Banner came to our table then, to see why we weren't working. When he left, I started doodling on my notebook.

"It's too bad about the snow isn't it?" Edward asked. I had the feeling he was forcing himself to make small talk with me.

"Not really." I answered honestly.

"You don't like the cold." It wasn't a qustion.

"Or the wet."

"Forks must be a difficult place for you to live," he mused.

"You have no idea." I muttered darkly.

He looked fascinated by what I said, for some reason I couldn't imagine.

"Why did you come here, then?"

No one had asked me that-not straight out like he did, demanding.

"It's . . . complicated."

"I think I can keep up," he pressed.

I paused for a long moment, and then made the mistake of meeting his gaze. His dark gold eyes confused me, and I answered without thinking.

"My mother got remarried," I said.

"That doesn't sound so complex," he disagreed, but he was suddenly sympathetic. "When did that happen?"

"Last September." My voice sounded sad, even to me. "It doesn't sound complex to you because you don't know the whole story."

"You don't like him," Edward surmised, his tone still kind.

"Phil is fine. Too young, maybe, but nice."

"Why didn't you stay with them?"

Now to get into the harder part. I couldn't fathom his interest but he continued to stare at me with penetrating eyes, as if my problems were somehow vitally important.

"Phil travels a lot. He plays ball for a living." I half smiled.

"Have I heard of him?" He asked, smiling in response.

"Probably not. He doesn't play _well_. Strictly minor league. He moves around a lot."

"And your mother sent you here so that she could travel with him." He said it as an assumption again, not a question.

My chin raised a fraction. "No, she didn't send me here. I sent myself."

His eyebrows knit together. "I don't understand," he admitted, and he seemed unnecessarily frustrated by that fact.

I sighed. Why was I explaining this to him? He continued to stare at me with obvious curiosity.

"She stayed with me at first, but she missed him. It made her unhappy . . . so I decided it was time to spend some quality time with Charlie." My voice was glum by the time I finished. I chose the explanation that didn't involve my pregnancy.

"But now you're unhappy," he pointed out.

"And?" I challenged.

"That doesn't seem fair." He shrugged, but his eyes were still intense.

I laughed without humor. "Hasn't anyone ever told you? Life isn't fair."

"I believe I _have_ heard that somewhere before," he agreed dryly.

"So that's all," I insisted, wondering why he was still staring at me that way.

His gaze became appraising. "You put on a good show," he said slowly. "But I'd be willing to bet that you're suffering more than you let anyone see."

I grimaced and looked away. He was right, the pregnancy was hard on me sometimes but I didn't let Joseph see that. He was so excited about the baby.

"Am I wrong?"

I didn't answer him immediately.

"What does it matter to _you_?" I asked, irritated. I kept my eyes away, watching the teacher make his rounds.

A sharp pain in my abdomen caught my attention and I cried out, cradling my stomach in my hands. Josephs' warm hands turned me to face him.

"Bella, what's wrong?" He demanded.

"I don't know. My stomach, it just started hurting." I gazed at him meaningfully. "Ah!" I looked down at my stomach.

"I need to get Bella to the nurse." Joseph grabbed my bag and picked me up bridal style. I turned to bury my head in his shoulder, letting my tears soak into his shirt.

He'd gotten us out of the classroom and down the hallway when the pain stopped.

"Joseph, put me down. The pain is gone, I can walk to the nurse." I felt his reluctance, but he put me on my feet.

"The baby?"

"I'm sure the baby is fine, I didn't feel any blood. I'll have her check it out. Thank you for your concern, Joseph. You'll be a wonderful father." I finished softly then turned to walk down the hallway, he caught my arm and gently turned me to face him.

"_We _are going to have it checked out."

"I'm the one who is pregnant the last time I checked."

"I'm coming with you."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am."

"No you're not! I don't want you there! Especially when she has to lift my shirt up and prod my stomach. I don't even want you in the same room as me when I'm having the baby."

"Bells, I want to come with you to see if our little baby is okay. As the father, I have the right to be present whenever there is even the slightest chance my baby is hurt or . . . or worse. I have to know. Please, Bella." Joseph's warm brown eyes were pleading.

I felt my chest get warmer, like he was filling it with hot water, his eyes were melting me. I touched his face. "Okay."

I broke the position first, lowering my hand and walking down the hall. The walk to the office was silent, I expected Joseph didn't know what to say any more than I did. I welcomed the warmth inside the building, allowing it to replace the warmth caused by Joseph.


	8. Chapter 8

The receptionist, Ms. Cope, looked up as we walked by the front counter. Passing it to approach the nurse's door. The grandmotherly nurse looked up from a novel, surprised, as I sat on the brown vinyl mattress of the one cot. Joseph stood against the wall at the opposite side of the narrow room.

"Hello, um I'm Bella Swan and I had some sharp stomach pain during class. I'm concerned because I'm six weeks pregnant." I blew out a breath. That was hard to say.

"Ah, I see. Well, lay down, dear and let's have a look." The nurse said in a kind voice. She turned to Joseph. "You're the father?"

"Yes, ma'am." He answered politely, keeping his eyes on me.

She felt around my stomach, gently prodding with her fingers for a moment. I reminded myself to stay calm so I wouldn't hurt the baby more if there was something wrong. Joseph's warm hand slid over mine, I gripped it, silently hoping our child was not lost.

"Well, dear, the baby is perfectly alright. Just avoid strong emotions for a while, especially anger. Does the school know of your pregnancy?"

"Oh, no, I haven't told them yet. It has been hard enough being the new girl without the entire school gossiping about me behind my back. I'm not ready to say anything to them yet." I couldn't look at the nurse, I felt soft pressure on my hand.

"It's going to be alright, Bells. I'll be here with you every step of the way." His smile was warm and supportive. He was such a good guy.

"Promise?" I asked meekly.

"I promise."

"Miss Swan, I will allow you to tell the school on your own time. But if ever I feel like the child is in danger I will tell them for you." The nurse finished firmly, bustling about the small room. "Do you have prenatal vitamins?"

"Yes, ma'm. I take them as directed."

"Good. Here's some Cocoa Butter lotion to run on your stomach. For later months, dear. And her is a baby blanket for the little one. It was meant for my neice but the biological parents dropped out of the adoption. You may have it."

"I'm sorry to hear that. . . but I can't take these from you."

"Go ahead, dear. They are gifts."

"No-"

"Nonsense! You need them more than I do."

"Thank you. For everything." I handed Joseph the lotion and blanket so he could stow them in my school bag.

With another thank you-and instructions to get some rest-Joseph and I left the small infirmary, walking outside to the office so he could sign me out.

The rain was just a mist as we walked slowly to the parking lot, but I was happier when I was in the dry cab. Joseph didn't mind the rain. He wanted to drive so I handed over my keys without argument, he got the heater running and for once I didn't care about the mind-numbing roar of the engine. I unzipped my jacket, put the hood down, and fluffed my hair out so the heater could dry it on the way home.

Joseph looked around to make sure it was clear. I noticed the still, white figure. Edward Cullen was leaning against the front door of the Volvo, three cars down from my truck, and staring intently in my direction. I swiftly looked away as Joseph threw the truck in reverse, almost hitting a rusty Toyota Corolla. Lucky for the Toyota, he stomped on the brake in time. It was just the sort of car that my truck would make scrap metal of. Joseph took a deep breath, still looking out the other side of my car, and cautiously pulled out again, with greater success. I stared straight ahead as we passed the Volvo, but from a peripheral peek, I could swear I saw him laughing.

When we cleared the high school I scooted closer to Joseph and lay my head on his shoulder. He seemed a little surprised at first but then put an arm around me, drawing me into his side. We drove home and ordered a large pepperoni pizza because neither of us wanted to cook. We didn't talk much, just mostly on the couch together to eat and laughed at some sappy love movies.

**A/N: I know this one was short but I ran out of ideas to write about for now. Next one will be longer promise! R&R please!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I'M SO SO SORRY ABOUT THE LONG DELAY BETWEEN CHAPTERS! MY LAPTOP SCREEN CRASHED SO I COULDN'T SEE MY CHAPTERS IN WORD! PLEASE FORGIVE ME AND REVIEW ! THANKS!**

When I opened my eyes in the morning, something was different.

Grey-green light of a cloudy day in the forest filtered down from my window.

I turned over and slipped out of bed to look outside.

A fine layer of snow covered the yard, dusted the top of my truck, and whitened the road. That wasn't all. All of the rain yesterday had frozen solid-coating the needles on the trees in fantastic, gorgeous patterns, and making the driveway a dangerous ice slick. I should probably go back to bed right now; I was tempted to, I looked over my shoulder to Josephs' nude form. He lay on my bed covered with sheets, still sleeping. He was smiling in his sleep, his face looked so serene.

I walked to the bed, lifting the covers enough to climb into bed and sit on him. I leaned in to kiss his chest, running my fingers down the muscles of his chest and abdomen. Joseph stirred, opening his sleepy eyes to look at me. I kissed him, my hands traveling up to his neck slowly.

He flipped us over quickly so I was on my back, hovering over me so he could kiss my lips and neck. I giggled when he tickled me and let him take me a second time.

I gently extricated myself from Josephs' arms and threw my robe on, padding barefoot to the bathroom to take a quick shower. I found a clean button up t-shirt neatlyfolded by the towels and instantly knew it was Josephs. Dad would never wear light blue, plus Charlie wasn't quite as skinny. I slipped the shirt on and quickly buttoned up, toweling my hair as I walked to my bedroom. Joseph was standing at my window with a sheet around his waist, he turned when he heard the door open.

"Hey, Bells. Very sexy look you got going there. You could'. have waited for me. I could have taken a shower with you and saved some water. Also could have helped you button that shirt." He gave me a mischeivous grin as he walked to me and wrapped me in his arms.

"Thanks, I like the look. I saved _time_ showering alone and you wouldn't have helped me button the shirt you would rather help me _un_button the shirt." I countered, letting my hands roam over his shoulder blades as he kissed my neck.

"Mm, what makes you think that?"

"If we showered together we probably would have had sex again. Twice is enough for now. I really need to get going."

"I wish you didn't."

"Hmm I think I can imagine why. Need to get my pants on. I will see you tonight." I kissed him and stepped out of his arms to pull on my waiting jeans. "Bye, Joseph."

"Bye, Bell."

Charlie had left for work before I woke up. In a lot of ways living with Charlie was like having my own place, and I found myself reveling in the aloneness with Joseph.

I threw down a quick bowl of cereal and some water. I was excited to go to school today, and that was very unusual. I wanted to go because of the learning environment, because I liked Biology. And that was very, very stupid.

It took every ounce of concentration I had to make it down the icy brick driveway. I almost lost my balance when I finally made it to the truck, but I managed to grab the side mirror and save myself.

Driving to school, I distracted myself from my fear of falling by thinking about the difference in how teenage boys responded to me. Mike's puppy dog behavior and Eric's apparent rivalry with him were disconcerting. I wasn't sure if I didn't prefer them ignoring me compared to the annoyance of their current behavior. Dealings with Joseph was the source of my insight to their crushes on me, if I hadn't met Joseph I wouldn't know what caused the teenagers to act so strange and territorial almost.

My truck seemed to have no problem with the black ice that covered the roads. I drove very slowly, though, not wanting to carve a path of destruction through Main Street.

When I hopped out of my truck at school, I saw why I'd had so little trouble. Something silver caught my eye, and I walked to the back of the truck-carefully holding the side for support-to examine my tires. There were thin chains crisscrossed in diamond shapes around them. Charlie had gotten up who knows how early to put snow chains on my truck. My throat suddenly felt tight. I wasn't used to being taken care of, and Charlie's unspoken concern caught me by surprise.

I was standing by the back corner of the truck, struggling to fight back the sudden wave of emotion the snow chains had brought on, when I heard an odd sound.

It was high-pitched screech, and it was fast becoming painfully loud. I looked up, startled.

I saw several things simultaneously. Nothing was moving in slow motion, the way it does in movies. Instead, the adrenaline rush seemed to make my brain work much faster, and I was able to absorb several things at once.

Edward Cullen was standing four cars down from me, staring at me in horror. His face stood out from a sea of faces, all frozen in the same mask of shock. But of more importance was the dark blue van that was skidding, tires locked and squealing against the brakes, spinning wildly across the ice of the parking lot. It was going to hit the back corner of my truck, and I was standing between them. I didn't even have time to close my eyes.

Just before I heard the shattering crunch of the van folding around the truck bed, something hit me . . . but not in the direction I was expecting. My head cracked against the icy blacktop, and I felt something solid and cold pinning me to the ground. I was laying on the pavement behind the tan car I'd parked next to. But I didn't have a chance to notice anything else, because the van was still coming. It had curled gratingly around the end of the truck and, still spinning and sliding, was about to collide with me _again_.


	10. Chapter 10

A low oath made me aware that someone was with me and the voice was impossible not to recognize. Two long, white hands shot out protectively in front of me and the van shuddered to a stop a foot from my face, the large hands fitting providentially into the deep dent in the side of the van's body.

Then his hands moved so fast that they blurred. One was suddenly gripping under the body of the van, and something was dragging me, swinging my legs around like a rag dolls, till they hit the tire of the tan car. A groaning metallic thud hurt my sensitive ears, then the van settled, glass popping, onto the asphalt-exactly where, a second ago, my legs had been.

It was absolutely silent for one long second before the creaming began. In the abrupt bedlam, I could hear more than one person shouting my name. But more clearly than all the yelling, I could hear Edward Cullen's low, frantic voice in my ear.

"Bella? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." My voice sounded strange. I tried to sit up, and realized he was holding me against the side of his body in an iron grasp.

"Be careful," he warned as I struggled. "I think you hit your head pretty hard."

I became aware of a throbbing ache centered above my left ear.

"Ow," I said, disgruntled.

"That's what I thought." His voice, amazingly, sounded like he was suppressing laughter.

"How in the . . ." I trailed off, remembering I had been hit hard and was laying on freezing ice. "My baby! My baby!"

I tured to sit up, and this time he let me, releasing his hold around my waist and sliding as far from me as he could in the limited space. I looked at his concerned expression, worrying about my baby I cradled my stomach. I looked over myself as best I could and didn't feel any blood.

And then they found us, a crowd of people with tears streaming down their faces, shouting at each other, shouting at us.

"Don't move," someone instructed loudly.

"Get Tyler out of the van!" someone else shouted. There was a flurry of activity around us. I tried to get up, but Edward's cold hand pushed m shoulder down.

"Just stay put for now."

"But it's cold," I complained. It surprised me when he chuckled under his breath. There was an edge to the sound.

"My baby," I gasped, and his chuckle stopped short. "I have to get up. My baby will get too cold."

His expression hardened. "No, you have to stay put."

"I have to get up. My baby's life could be at risk!" I whispered frantically. All around us was chaos. I could hear the gruffer voices of adults arriving on the scene.

It took six EMT's and two teachers-Mr. Varner and Coach Clapp-to shift the can far enough away from us to bring the stretches in. Edward vehemently refused his, the traitor told them I'd hit my head and proably had a conussion. I almost died of humiliation when they put the neckbrace on me. It looked like the entire school was there, watching soberly as they loaded me in the back of the ambulance. Edward got to ride in the front. It was maddening.

To make matters worse, Chief Swan and Joseph arrived before they could get me safely away.

"Bella!" They yelled in panic when they recognized me on the stretcher.

"I'm completely fine, guys," I sighed. "There's nothing wrong with me."

My baby could very well be a different story.

They turned to the closest EMT to a second opinion. I tuned them out to collect myself and attempt to figure out if I was bleeding or showing any other signs of miscarriage. When they'd lifted me away from the car, I was shocked to see the damage inflicted on Tyler's totaled van. I felt bad for Tyler and his parents.

Edward's family, looking at the scene from a distance, had expressions that ranged from disapproval to fury but held no hint of concern for their brother's safety.

Naturally, the ambulance got a police escort to the county hospital. I felt ridiculous the whole time they were unloading me. What made it worse was that Edward simply glided through the hospital doors under his own power. I ground my teeth together in irritation.

They put me in the emergency room, a long room with a line of beds seperated by pastel-patterned curtains. A nurse put a blood pressure cuff on my arm and a thermometer under my tongue. Since no one bothered pulling the curtain around to give me some privacy, I decided that I wasn't obligated to wear the stupid-looking neck brace anymore. When the nurse walked away, I quickly unfastened the velcro and threw the offensive restraint under the bed.

There was another flurry of hospital personel, another stretcher brought to the bed next to mine. I recognized Tyler Crwley from my Government class beneath the bloodstained bandages wrapped tightly around his head. Tyler looked one hundred times worse than I felt. But he was staring anxiously at me.

"Bella, I'm so sorry!"

"I'm fine, Tyler. Are _you_ alright?"

As we spoke, nurses began unwinding his soiled bandages, exposing shallow slices all over his forehead and left cheek.

He ignored me. "I thought I was going to kill you! I was driving too fast, and I hit the ice wrong . . ." He trailed off with a wince as once nurse started dabbing at his face.

"Don't worry about it; you missed me."

"How did you get out of the way so fast? You were there, and then you were gone. . ."

"Edward pulled me out of the way."

He loked confused. "Who?"

"Edward Cullen-he was standing next to me."

"Cullen? I didn't see him . . . wow, it was all so fast. Is he okay?"

"I think so. He's here somewhere, but they didn't make him use a stretcher."

The nurse tried to get me into a wheelchair to go x-ray my head but I refused. I needed an ultrasound. She said I had to wait for the doctor so I was trapped in the E.R. I clsed my eyes and willed myself not to lose patience.

"Is she sleeping?" A musical voice asked. My eyes flew open in shock, I hadn't heard anyone approach the bed.

Edward was standing at the foot of the bed, smirking. I glared at him.

"Hey, Edward, I'm really sorry about almost hitting you." Tyler gushed guiltily.

Edward lifted a hand to cease his worry. "No harm, no foul," he said, flashing his brilliant white teeth. He moved to sit on the edge of Tyler's bed, facing me. He smirked at me again.

"So, what's the verdict?" He asked me.

"So far as I can tell, there's nothing wrong at all. But they won't let me go until I see a doctor," I complained. "How come you aren't strapped down to a gurney like the rest of us?"

"It's all about who you know," he answered. "But don't worry, I came to spring you."

Then a doctor walked around the corner, and my mouth fell pen. He was young, he was blond . . . and he was more handsome than any movie star I'd ever seen. He was pale, though, and tired-looking, with circles under his eyes. From Charlie's description, this had to be Edward's father.

"So, Miss Swan," Dr. Cullen said in a remarkably appealing voice, "how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," I said, for the last time I hoped.

He looked at my chart and semed puzzled about something. "Your nurse told me you refused an x-ray. Is that correct?"

"Yes, sir. I can't have one done. I requested an ultrasound but she said I had to speak to you first."

"May I ask why you requested an ultrasound?" He seemed even more puzzled by my response.

I was reluctant to give him an answer with Tyler in the room. "I was hit in the stomach during the accident and I'm concerned about internal injuries so I thought I'd request an ultrasound." I lied smoothly.

"Alright, I'll go inform the ultrasound technician so she can prepare. I'll be right back with a nurse and wheelchair. Then we'll see about that possible concussion."

"Okay. Thank you Dr. Cullen." I took a deep breath after he had gone.

"When will you tell him? He needs to know in order to treat you properly." Edward's soft voice drifted into my mind, trashing my concentration on not freaking out.

"It's none of your business, Edward! I'll tell him when I want to tell him and not a moment sooner."

"He'll find out soon enough, Bella. He'll see on the ultrasound and when he does he will ask you if you knew and why you hid it from him."

"Then he does! I don't know why it's so impossible for you to mind your own business." I snapped, looking at the white ceiling. Was Joseph waiting for me in the waiting room? Almost a definite. Was he interally freaking out about me and the baby's health? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Doctr Cullen's return interrupted my thoughts, he was followed into the room by a pretty blond nurse in blue scrubs pushing a black wheelchair. I carefully sat up and let them assist me into the wheelchair. We then made our way down three hallways and turned left. Doctor Cullen opened the door so I could see inside.

The room consisted of a bed covered in crisp white sheets for me to lay on, the ultrasound machine, and two chairs for the tech and Dr. Cullen.

I lay down on the cool hospital sheets, slightly scooting as I situated myself in a comfortable position on my back. I immediately lifted my shirt to reveal my stomach, blushing a little when I remembered the doctor's presence. The tech placed the very cold gel on my stomach and moved this weird looking remote thing over my stomach.

My little baby showed up on the screen, I heard a gasp of surprise from the doctor and took in a breath. My baby was safe.

"Miss Swan, you failed to mention a pregnancy." He said firmly, but not unkind.

"I know I didn't mention beng pregnant before. I'm not ready for any students to know yet. I didn't know any other way to get you to understand without showing you, away from Tyler and anyone elsel." I bit my lip nervously.

"Does your father know?"

"Yep."

"You take prenatal vitamins?"

"Yes, sir, as directed."

"You've been out of gym?"

"Yes, sir. Mostly due to nausea during the class period."

"Alright," Dr. Cullen said, reaching beside him for the white towel I was supposed to use to dry off. "Get cleaned up and let's go back to look at that possible concussion."


	11. Important Author's Note!

**Important Author's note! I have reposted this story and am currently rewriting it. I have included a prologue and have changed some things. So thos of you who have read this story may need to read the beginning chapters again as I repost them. Apologies for waiting so long to spring this on you but I haven't been able to access my documents for awhile to do so. I sincerely hope you enjoy the changes! Have a good day!**


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